You're Impossible!
by Syncopated Heartbeat
Summary: Fred Weasley is the most infuriating boy in Hogwarts, and I'm sick and tired of playing second bloody fiddle to his mates...so tell me again, why do I still like him? Oneshot Fred & Angelina...kinda fluffy, I suppose....


"Oh, come on Ange," Fred pleaded, "It'll be fun." I looked up from my book to look at Fred. We'd been sitting in the common room alone all afternoon. We had our afternoon off, because Professor Lupin was sick, and the rest of our year was doing research in the library. Fred had decided to let me in on one of his newest little schemes.

I shook my head, "No way…I can't even believe you're trying to convince me that we should test your Canary Creams by putting them in the Slytherins' food…and worst of all, that it's going to be fun!"

"It _is_ fun though!" he protested, "Just think about it! Imagine Flint sprouting bright yellow feathers and a beak!"

I couldn't help but smile a little bit. The idea did amuse me, I mean Flint is a total slime ball, and I can't stand him. You can see why the idea of a Feathery Flint would definitely have some kind of appeal to me. Besides that though, Fred looked so funny, with his untidy hair, his lop-sided smile, and his arms clutching a box of his precious Demo Canary Creams. His expression was so earnest too, as though he sincerely wanted my help for his little mission.

"There we go, Angelina! There's a smile for me…you _know_ you want to help me," he smiled. When I didn't answer, he frowned, "Do I have to get down and beg? If I do, I will, you know." He carefully put down his box, bent down on his knees, and clasped his hands together. Suddenly, he started whining in a high-pitched voice, quite reminiscent of Peeves last Halloween, "Pleeeeeeeeease, Angelina, pleeeeeeeeease."

I almost laughed, but stopped myself. I quite liked Fred. No, scratch that. I _really_ liked Fred…a lot. He's one of the nicest guys I know, he's not bad-looking, he's always been there for me, and his bizarre prankster sense of humor always kind of…I don't know…attracted me a little. All the same though, a feeling of frustration had been harboring inside me for the past while. Fred _knows_ I like him as more than just another one of my pals, and he _knows_ I've been turning down boy after boy who has been asking me out: Lee, Rodger, that boy in Hufflepuff – Samuel - , and even Oliver asked me out over the summer! And all he ever does is ask me to help him pull pranks on people…as if I'm George or something! Well not anymore. I'm tired of him treating me like I'm one of his mates. He's got to realize sooner or later that I'm a girl, and he can't treat me like I'm one of his rough-and-tumble chums.

"I said no, Fred. Besides, I have homework to do…OWL's don't get done on their own, you know," I said standing up and starting to walk towards the staircase leading to my dormitory.

"I can help you with your work once we're done," he offered, "I'm good at Defense Against the Dark Arts…and I'm not half-bad at Transfiguration…and –"

"It's Potions homework," I interjected.

"Oh…" he said, not hiding his disappointment very well, "I can try anyway if you'd like though…"

I sighed, turning around to face him, "I'm sorry Fred…why don't you ask George to help you? He's always up for a good joke."

"Well, I would, but he's sick, so I figured maybe you…" he trailed off, looking away sheepishly, his hands jammed in his pockets.

"So you figured 'Oh, why not ask Angelina? She's just like one of my mates…only I ask her for things when all the others can't help me'," I put my hands on my hips, feeling all my frustrations coming out, "Fred Weasley, you should know that I am sick and tired of you treating me as though I'm 'one of the guys'…and one of the guys you don't like much at that!"

"Angelina, it's not like that," he shook his head, talking a step towards me.

"Okay then, maybe it's more like this 'Hmm…I'm bored today…how can I have some fun? I know! I can kill two birds with one bloody stone by playing tricks on people _and_ I can toy with Angelina a bit at the same time. I mean, I know she likes me, and she's dying for me to ask her out, but I don't care! I just want to have fun, fun, fun! Because that's the Fred Weasley way. And hey, I don't give a damn about how she's feeling; otherwise I'd have stopped making her play second bloody fiddle to everyone else all the time!' Is that more like it?" I asked, my voice growing louder and louder, until I was finally shouting by the end. I could tell that my face was red as a tomato, but frankly, I couldn't care less. Fred on the other hand, was looking both hurt and embarrassed; his expression was one of someone who'd just been smacked across the face.

"Is that what you think?" he asked much more quietly than normal Weasley twin standards.

"Yes, that is what I think," I answered, "And how could you possibly expect me to think anything else?"

"I've _tried_ asking you Angelina, I really have," he said, "What do you think I'm constantly asking you to help me with jokes and homework and things for? Things where we're alone. Secluded. In private."

"Oh, is _that_ you're idea of asking a girl out on a date?" I rolled my eyes, "Because it never occurred to you that just asking me to go to Hogsmeade with you was a bit more normal?"

"I did ask you to go to Hogsmeade with me!" he protested.

"Oh yes, you did. I'd forgot about that time when you asked me could I please go to Zonkos' with you, because you needed help carrying the supplies for that joke shop thing you've been planning with George. Goodness, it was so obvious you were asking me out…how in Merlin's name could I have not understood that?"

"Do you think you've been any more obvious?" he said, looking quite angry himself at this point, "You never said anything to me, you never did anything…and you're practically bi-polar! One minute you're friendly, all smiles, and the next thing I know, you're upset and shouting!"

"Turning down every single offer for a date I've got in the past 6 months, that doesn't mean anything? And I suppose doing everything you ask of me, taking every opportunity possible to spend time with you doesn't mean anything either?"

He didn't say anything, just looked at the floor in silence.

"Why didn't you ever ask me out on a _normal_ date? May I please know?" I asked.

"First of all, I wasn't sure if you liked me or not. Do you have any idea how awkward it would have made things if you'd answered 'Well, sorry but no, I'm actually really not interested in you that way'? Can you imagine all our classes? What about Quidditch practices? Time alone in the common room? And what of our friendship? I might as well have flushed it down Myrtle's toilet!" he paused for a second, and then quieter, "And maybe...what if... I was a bit…shy?"

I snorted, "You, of all people, shy?"

"Look, when's the last time I asked a girl out? Not just you, any girl at all?" I couldn't say anything at all. Mostly because I wasn't sure he ever had.

After my silence, he continued, "Exactly. I have no previous experience _whatsoever_. How am I supposed to know what to do? Or what I'm to expect?" This time, it was my turn to look at the floor uneasily.

"Besides that, you know me – very well, I might add - , and you know I have my own way of going about things. Didn't it ever occur to _you_ that maybe, just maybe, this was my way of asking you out?" he asked.

We just stood there, staring at each other. Besides the sound of our heavy breathing, the room was silent. You could have heard a sugar quill drop. I really hadn't any idea what to say. Instead, I twirled a long strand of my dark hair around my index finger, pretending to check for split ends.

Finally, I broke the silence. "What do we do now?"

He looked at me, confused now, "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's out now. I know you like me, and you know I like you," I paused, "But, at the moment, we're both angry with each other for being stupid. So where do we go from here?"

"We could just go back to being friends," he suggested.

"Or we could hate each other," I said.

"Or we could try being a normal couple, like everyone else," he proposed.

"Or we could just stop having any relationship with each other at all, and go our separate ways…Rodger Davies said his offer to go to Hogsmeade with me still stands," I said softly.

"Or," Fred took another step closer to me. He was now so close, I could make out every freckle on his face, notice every shade of red in his hair, and hear every little breath he took. I felt my heart rate going up into the stratosphere, my cheeks turning redder than a tomato – as red as his hair even - , and my eyes growing wide as saucers.

"I could do this," he put on arm around my waist, leaned over and gave me a short, but sweet, kiss.

"And then, maybe I could do this," I stood on tip-toe to give him a kiss, a little longer, and a little harder than his.

"And you know what we could do then?" he asked after I'd pulled away.

"What?" I asked.

"I could be Fred, the stubborn practical joker who insists on doing everything his own way, and you," he murmured and brushed my bangs out of my eyes, "could be Angelina, outgoing, spunky, and quite lovely in every way. And then we could be a not-normal couple, strange, but together."

I laughed, "I think I'd like that."

"Me too," he grinned, "As a matter of fact, I think that's my favorite option of the bunch."

"I think so too," I nodded, and then got more serious, "Fred, dear?"

"Yes Angelina, darling?" he said, arms around my waist, and leaning back to look at me, straight in the eyes.

"I think a certain Marcus Flint needs a Canary Cream in his food, don't you?" I arched my eyebrows. He smiled, his signature scheming glint in his eyes, "Good idea." He bent down, picked up the box with one hand, and held out the other to me, "Shall we?"

"We shall," I laughed, taking his hand.

As we walked towards the portrait hole, he stopped suddenly, and looked at me, "There's one thing left I have to say before we go, Angelina." I nodded, waiting.

"About Rodger Davies," he said, assuming a very serious tone.

"Mmhmm," I nodded.

"As far as the next Hogsmeade weekend goes, you can let him know he'll be stagging it."

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter...otherwise, I'd be stinking rich, living in a huge mansion, instead of in my basement, okay?

Anywayyyyy, hi people. ) It's my first HP fanfic...I don't really know if it's good or not, so wtv's...R&R? Okey-dokey. ) Later days...

- Pippi out. 3


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